


some tired island in your heart called paradise

by pensiveVisionary (hamburr)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humanstuck, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 17:32:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8926057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamburr/pseuds/pensiveVisionary
Summary: You lay sprawled out on your back, waiting. Your room is half-dark; the sun has mostly set, and you haven’t bothered to move to turn on a lamp. You’re mostly just being a waste of space until Eridan gets home, because you are you tired and you just want to be held for a while, to be kissed, to feel loved.





	

**Author's Note:**

> remember when i used to be able to write kissing? wow

You lay sprawled out on your back, waiting. Your room is half-dark; the sun has mostly set, and you haven’t bothered to move to turn on a lamp. You’re mostly just being a waste of space until Eridan gets home, because you are tired and you just want to be held for a while, to be kissed, to feel loved.

You close your eyes and sigh a long, tired sigh. You roll onto your side, half-curled around yourself as though spooning with someone invisible. You wring your hands, look at your fingers absently. Your shirt has crept halfway up your side; you rest a hand on your skin, as though pretending it belongs to Eridan. You close your eyes again and sigh.

You hear, then, a click from the front door and sit bolt upright, your heart suddenly beating double-time. Your head spins a little, from sitting up too fast. You sit there, not wanting to get up and greet him because you will end up making out in the living room or the hallway and that’s not what you want, you want him to come here to you and pull you in close and show you how much he wants you.

You lean back against the headboard and stretch out your legs, waiting for Eridan to come down the hall and enter your room. He is already absentmindedly unbuttoning his shirt as he comes in, presumably to change.

“Hey, hold up, let me do that,” you say, and he looks at you, a smile spreading across his face.

“With pleasure, Kar, darlin’,” he says, and climbs into bed with you. He straddles your legs, and you reach up and unfasten the topmost button of his shirt. He leans down and kisses you as you continue; he kisses like melting, his lips gentle and soft and warm against yours and you undo the last button and slide the shirt off of his shoulders—no undershirt to battle with, it’s your goddamn lucky day—and as you do so he slides his tongue over your lower lip and you shiver. You run your hands over his ribs, and he pushes his hands under your shirt.

His hands are always cold, and it’s sort of a shock at first but you are always so warm that you really don’t mind. It reminds you, a little bit, in a silly way, of a lesson on Pavlovian responses from an old psychology class; the professor used an example of a man whose lover had cold hands and so associated cold hands and being aroused and therefore cold hands turned him on. You’d laughed, then, but you’re afraid you’re going down the same route as this poor fictional man.

Also, Eridan without glasses on—because the only time he doesn't wear them is when you’re kissing and well, whoops, you find him overwhelmingly attractive glassesless—but you digress. Yep, that is definitely a lot of digression here that doesn’t need to be there at all. C’mon, Karkat.

He pushes your shirt up to your chest, and you break the kiss to shuck it off the rest of the way. The second it’s off you, he gets back to kissing you, less gently and more urgently. You let yourself be caught up in it, breathing quicker and running your hands up and down his back. His hands lace ungently into your hair, pulling at it as he kisses you and your back arches and your breath catches and he bites at your lip and you make a small sound.

He kisses you harder, all fierce and wanting and you want him right back. He sucks your lower lip into his mouth and you whine, grabbing for something and winding up clutching at his shoulders. He kisses you for a moment more, then pulls your head back to kiss your neck.

Your hands slide into his hair as his fall to trace along your torso. He places gentle, soft kisses over your neck and collarbone, and the more agitated you grow the harder he kisses, and as you grab at his hair he bites near your collarbone.

Once you are sufficiently flustered—not as if you weren’t before—he goes to kiss lightly across your stomach, which drains the heat out of the interaction and, with it, lets your tension bleed out. You like to watch him; the intent, intense look on his face is lovelier than anything. You close your eyes contentedly, but just as soon open them to look at him.

Eridan Ampora is the most beautiful person you have ever set eyes on, to be sure.

You sigh, and sigh again, and eventually he kisses his way back up to your mouth. He kisses you urgently for a few moments, very gently for a while more, until you finally break the kiss and pull him down against your chest. He closes his eyes, content, and so do you.

You stay there, quiet and giggly and happy. Eridan lazily kisses your shoulder and neck and collarbone, as that is what is closest to him, absentmindedly talking about his day between kisses. You smile and nod and laugh— you don’t stop smiling— such is the power Eridan Ampora holds over you.

You stay that way for what probably would have turned into the rest of your evening, were it not for Eridan whining about being hungry.

You don’t mind, though.

You never mind. Not with Eridan.

You love him so, so much.

**Author's Note:**

> thank u this has been the great erikar file clearing of 2016, i hope u enjoyed


End file.
